Nocturne Aubade
by Zemia
Summary: Dreams are normal part of every person’s daily routine, it keeps them sane. Draco begins having dreams that make him doubt that. When some dreams start coming true, can this Slytherin find Gryffindor courage to save his favorite pet lion?


**Nocturne Aubade**

by: Nemia

Disclaimer: Nobody in the Harry Potter universe belongs to me. I claim no kinship whatsoever and praise Rowling wholeheartedly. May we forever toss my money into their giant pool of cash. The only thing I'm getting out of writing these is sick sadistic pleasure out of making the character's lives even more difficult.

Nemia

Heat and sweat… primal gasps and grunts, noises made from the oldest activity known to all animals, including Man. A willing body under him, squirming for more, making noises that were causing reactions he didn't know he could produce.

_Harder, Faster. Now!_

He obliged, grunting softly as he took the one under him nearly to the point of viciousness, causing them to cry out in pleasure and pain. In his ear, the sweet moans of his lover felt like music, the stuttering gasp of his name causing him to nearly lose himself, but it wasn't time yet. He hadn't gotten them to finish yet.

"D….Draco… gods…"

Leaning closer, he took his lover's lips, enjoying the give and take of the kiss, the way they'd submit under him, while demanding in their own right. Pushing himself up, he quickened the pace a bit more, hitting the prostate to get his lover to moan for him again. Gazing with love and possessiveness down at the one under him, he smiled at the face of his lover bathed in moonlight, a breathtaking sight. A flash of vibrant green… and a lightning bolt.

Draco jerked upright in bed, nearly falling out of it in the process, catching himself only at the last minute with a deeply frustrated growl. "SHIT! Not again!"

But it _had_ happened again. Something that had been teasing him off and on for weeks now. The dream was getting clearer and clearer, the more he dreamt it that much was clear. He'd never before had actual details of his 'lover's' face. It had only ever been the vague outline of the body rocking in time to his thrusts, crying out to him for more. His eyes held stark horror as realization kicked in. "Why HIM!?"

Yet people wondered at the dark circles under his eyes, whispered over his degrading conditions behind his back when they thought he wasn't listening. It was because he wasn't getting any fucking sleep! Taking a deep breath, he rubbed at his eyes, cursing and swearing, damning that Harry Potter for causing the bloody mess he was subjected to in the first place. But then, he damned himself too. Peering down at the tented sheets pooled at his waist, he let out a groan and ignored his aching member as he went to get clothes.

An hour later, a frustratingly sated and thoroughly irate Slytherin blonde was seated at his House's table in the Great Hall picking at his food. Crabbe and Goyle were too used to Malfoy's moods to bother risking having their heads handed to him. Blaise and Theodore however, hadn't yet learned better or just didn't give a fuck what had put their pal into his latest snit, because they seated themselves across from him with twin smirks in place.

"Hey, Malfoy. They're called eggs. You're supposed to eat them, not make pretty pictures with them." Theodore poked at the plate where Draco was pushing eggs around in a hypnotic weaving pattern, asking, "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Yeah, how are we going to fuck with Potter and the Potty Crew today?" Blaise asked, continuing Nott's train of thought.

Wrong question.

Draco shoved the plate of food roughly towards them, causing them to split up before it hit them with a startled shout, glaring at Draco as the plate careened to the floor with a clatter. "Malfoy! What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

Rising without answering, Draco stood and stalked out of the great hall, nearly running into Neville and Seamus, literally. Growling at them, he shoved one into the other as he passed with a snarl, "Move, Gryffindor prats!" Then he was gone, leaving them staring after him and wondering what bug crawled up his arse so early in the morning.

Blaise and Theodore were left staring after their friend with twin expressions of flabbergasted surprise. Malfoy must've had another bad night. With a shrug, they grabbed plates of food for themselves, fully intent on eating and plotting with each other. Their blonde companion would sort himself out and get his panties out of their knot, and then he'd be back in fine form for some mischief in no time.

Being early risers, well, at least Hermione and Harry, who'd dragged Ron, the three friends were seating themselves at the Gryffindor table when they heard Nott yelling at Malfoy, followed by the clattering of dishware. They all turned to watch unobtrusively as Malfoy stalked out of the Hall, shoving Neville and Seamus before disappearing. The two affronted boys wandered over with identical frowns and sat down, joining the first three at the table.

"Wot th'fook's his problem?" Seamus asked, grumbling as he pulled over the pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"He looked like he'd eaten eggs of a Blast-Ended Skrewt, and was quivering to boot." Neville added, grabbing a plateful of eggs out of the platter.

"Wonder what's up with Malfoy this time. Probably no good for us." Ron mused, glancing over at the others with his eyebrows raised.

Hermione huffed as she closed her book, finally tiring of talking about Draco all damned day. "Well, whatever it is, we'll deal with it when it comes, so do we have to listen during breakfast?"

Harry, for his part, stared for another minute towards where Draco had disappeared, and he couldn't help the nagging feeling that'd begun in the back of his mind. He'd watched Draco degrade for days, getting snarkier and snarkier, and looking more tired than he'd seen in a long time. Maybe he'd confront him about it later. Maybe.

TBC


End file.
